


Hooked On A Feeling

by TrashCan_Inc



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Poison has feelings and is like 'thanks! I hate it!', They all lov each other man, Unresolved Romantic Tension, commitment issues, descriptive, friendship dynamics, ghoulpoison, introspective, partyghoul - Freeform, vague backstory mention, vague polyamory?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 06:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13265235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashCan_Inc/pseuds/TrashCan_Inc
Summary: Party Poison isn't afraid of much, except feelings.





	Hooked On A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Party Poison has some thoughts on desert romances.
> 
> Especially with Ghoul.

Party Poison was supposed to be above it all.

A shot of fire-red adrenaline flying like a comet through the desert, a splash of colour in this god's-armpit of a wasteland, a soldier of mayhem in a world that wanted order.

But he was not above this.

Running at breakneck speed from human emotions he was socially conditioned to think were abnormal, Poison would crawl into any pit to escape, to have Something To Do to keep him distracted. And sometimes those metaphorical 'pits' were beds.

From kissing boys in Batt City to escape the dullness of his adolescent life, to picking up other Killjoys at desert clubs just to feel like someone vaguely liked him, to feel _needed_.

It's not like he thought his friends hated him. It was irrational. It was just the anxiety talking. Kobra and The Girl looked up to him as a brother. Jet looked at him as a beloved friend. Ghoul liked him.

 _Ghoul_.

It always came back to _Fun **fucking** Ghoul_.

Floppy hair hanging ridiculously in his face, that sideways smirk with pierced lips that always made it look like he knew some playful dark secret of yours. They'd done things before. Been intimate. But they'd also done things with a lot of other people; it was a good pass-time for a bunch of hormonal young adults with too much free reign. Even Jet Star had briefly been intimate with both of them before (it didn't mean much beyond experimentation, for any of them. Sort of.). But for Poison, no one was quite like Ghoul.

And that scared the living shit out of him.

They'd been inseparable since they first met as younger teens. Ghoul had been found in the desert, alone, sick; Poison would frequently be in the makeshift hospital room at Dr D's, watching over him, both fascinated and concerned. He was sometimes the only person who could stop the boy's frustrated screaming and yelling, calming him down and helping him realise when he was home and safe. Ghoul would often partner with him on resistance missions, and when they focused, they worked together like clockwork. They could sit on the rooftop of the diner and talk about everything and nothing under the sun, for hours.

Their first kiss felt like the most chaotic thing he'd ever done in his mayhem-ridden life. Or maybe it was the one moment of calm, the eye of the storm; fuck if Poison knew how to describe it. They'd been at a club and celebrating a victory, and it was dark, and they were high on the electrifying joy, and they inched closer to each other from across the room, neither of them really thinking much, and _god_ his lips were fucking slobbery and he desperately needed to find chapstick in this hellhole, but Poison didn't give a shit because he was **_feeling_** _something_ , his heart almost jumping out of his throat, his fingers in Ghoul's hair and Ghoul's fingers in his hair...

He'd never been with anyone as much as he'd been with Ghoul. Probably never liked it as much. And he knew Ghoul probably felt the same. Or similar. Or like an inch... Or maybe it's all a big joke and he was just--

 _ **Stop**_.

_That's just the anxiety talking._

_Jesus_ _**Christ**_.

What was he supposed to do about it anyway? Show up with some shitty desert flowers and an ill-fitting tuxedo found in the garbage and say " _hi Ghoul, we're lifelong companions and we've fucked a lot, and we clearly love each other, but I'm absolutely scared shitless of commitment! Run away with me? I love you??_ " and then elope and have some weird open wedding, bridal-carrying Ghoul's tiny ass?

He can't even say the word 'boyfriend' sometimes without giggling! At AGE FUCKING TWENTY!

" _Hey Jet, you sitting in a tree with your B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D??"_

He wasn't gonna confide to Jet Star about this; smarmy fucker would have ammo now.

But he wanted to punch his own gut for how it felt when he saw Ghoul sitting in the booth at the diner, legs curled up on the couch, hazel-green eyes absolutely fucking _lighting up_ as Poison entered, while he pushed back a few greasy strands of his own hair to see him better.

But maybe it was nice the way it was. Poison sitting on the sofa as close to Ghoul as he could get; Ghoul slinging an arm over him and giving his shoulder a squeeze. Poison looking him in the eyes.

"I picked up sodas from Chow Mein's."  
"Party Poison, you're a fucking _godsend_."  
Ghoul winked.  
"We gonna finish these before your little brother gets to them. He practically inhales this shit"  
"You bet! Are we... are we meeting up at the warehouse club tonight?"  
"You bet. I gotta show you this spot on the rooftop where--"

And as Ghoul continued, Poison realised that this was nice. Incredible even. Maybe he didn't need to be a cheesy fuck just to let Ghoul know he loved him.

Maybe this kind of thing was their I Love You.


End file.
